


Play With Me

by windsorblue



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-07
Updated: 2005-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 22:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4540305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsorblue/pseuds/windsorblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>- answering the request of <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://terraplan.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://terraplan.livejournal.com/">terraplan</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Play With Me

rating: NC-17  
warnings: lemon, first time  
author's notes/Summary: - answering the request of [](http://terraplan.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://terraplan.livejournal.com/)**terraplan** , who asked for: _I have no specific request, just that they be really IC (in character). [Note: Please NO fluff or sap. It would be cool if they could have a meet under their two gundams.]_

Quatre stopped somewhere in the middle of the hangar bay, not really mindful of where - just a spot, a good spot, to stand and to think and to look at Sandrock, because looking at Sandrock was necessary right now. Sandrock, same on the outside as it ever was, but on the inside now something different and a little frightening; a beast that could overwhelm him easily - that already had once - but that if tamed could be the thing to save them all. And so there he stood, not leaning and not fidgeting - just still and quiet, as quiet as thinking.

It wasn't until he shook his head and sighed that he heard a voice, gentle-soft. "Hey."

Quatre turned, jerked around, to see Trowa resting on his belly, chin propped in his hands, lying on top of the missile pod on Heavyarms' right leg. Quatre cocked his head and stepped in Trowa's direction. "Hey yourself. How did you get up there?"

Trowa shrugged with a mischievous smile. "Fun with low-grav." He pushed up, moved into a handstand and then vaulted backwards, only to push off from the leg with his feet and somersault forward and down, all but tumbling down the suit's leg to perch on top of it's foot.

Quatre watched as he walked, grinning and shaking his head when he stopped, close enough to touch Heavyarms' foot with the palm of his hand. Trowa was different now, as if his time away from all of this had opened him, enhanced him somehow; as if losing his memory had allowed another Trowa to take root and grow. And now, before him, was a hybrid of the two - the Trowa he'd known already; clever, sincere, quiet and deadly accurate in both his aim and his observations, and the Trowa who had filled in while the old one was away; self-assured yet shy - especially around him, charming almost, quicker to smile, still quiet but somehow more open and easier to read. "So it would appear."

Trowa crouched down onto his haunches, elbows on his knees. "You should try it sometime."

"Maybe I will." Quatre's smile shifted, from teasing-flirting to contemplative. They'd been dancing this dance, the two of them, for several days now - tease, flirt, smile, retreat - a dance with no end in sight. It tired Quatre suddenly, to have to go through the steps again, to wonder what he had to do to change the way the dance ended. His gaze drifted back to Sandrock - yet another dance to learn - before Trowa spoke again.

"ZERO," he said simply.

Quatre turned to him once more. "Hm?"

"ZERO," Trowa repeated. He sat on Heavyarms' foot with his legs dangling over the side. "That was what you used out there, to keep us from getting our balls blown off. You installed ZERO into Sandrock."

Quatre shook his head, eyes drifting to his feet. This Trowa swore a lot more than the old one had, and even that was charming. "It was ZERO, yes, but I didn't install it - Heero had Howard do it."

"Remind me to pop Heero one later."

"That's hardly necessary," Quatre chided gently. "In the end, it was the right thing to do. Without ZERO we would've been screwed, and if he'd asked me beforehand I wouldn't have dared to try it." He studied Sandrock's lifeless face for a moment, looking for a soul in mechanical eyes. "I can master it this time, I think. I can use it without it using me."

"I know." Quatre whirled, meeting Trowa's level-headed gaze, greeted with a gently encouraging smile. "Out of all of us, you're the most capable of mastering it. Even Heero's successes with it are limited to keeping his own skin intact. You're the only one who can use it to keep all of our asses out of the fire." Trowa's face turned somber, his eyes shifting sad, full of concern. "That puts you in greater danger, you know. Once they figure out you're the one...the quickest way to kill the beast is to cut off its head."

"I'm not the head," Quatre replied quickly.

"The hell you're not." Trowa pushed off from his seat on Heavyarms' foot and let his body drift slowly down, hovering slightly before Quatre, making Quatre look up at him even more than usual. "You know how I can tell you're the head? Because you think too goddamn much, that's how." He tapped Quatre on the nose with a fingertip, and Quatre raised an eyebrow at him in response.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is, and frankly you need to stop thinking for a little while so your poor brain can get some rest." Trowa drifted back a little bit and held out his hand. "Play with me."

Quatre's other eyebrow shot up. "Excuse me?"

"Play with me," Trowa chuckled. "You know how kids knock on each other's doors and ask if so-and-so can come outside to play?"

Quatre shook his head, smiling slightly. "I never had that happen to me."

"Neither did I, so by my math, we're overdue." Trowa rapped gently on the side of Quatre's head with his knuckles. "Knock, knock. Can Quatre come outside and play?"

Quatre batted Trowa's hand away and smirked. "That depends. What are we going to play?"

Trowa's feet touched the ground as he smirked back. "Tag," he said, smacking Quatre soundly on the arm. "You're it!" And then he ran.

With an indignant yelp, Quatre gave chase. Trowa ducked around Heavyarms' foot, whirled back and ran the other way, crossing the space between to vault himself onto the other foot. Quatre scrambled up behind him, laughing and cursing the whole way. Trowa jumped backwards, narrowly dodging Quatre's hand, and spun himself into a back flip that propelled him up to the suit's ankle, where he balanced precariously on the strip of armor that covered the front of the foot. With all his might Quatre jumped, grabbed the edge that Trowa was standing on and hauled himself up, chasing Trowa as he ran along it to the other side of the foot. Quatre stretched his arm out as far as he could just as Trowa skidded to a stop at the armored joint, preparing to bounce upwards.

"Ha!" Quatre crowed, slapping Trowa on the shoulder blade. "Now you're it!"

Quatre turned on his heel and ran back down the armor strip, stopping midway across it and springing off. He was almost to Heavyarms' toes when a solid weight struck his back, arms wrapped around him tight, spinning his body around. He could feel Trowa breathing, hot breaths and heavy, against his neck - could hear the quiet 'oof'-noise he made when they landed, gently but solidly, on the top of metal foot, Trowa on his back with Quatre clasped to him, back to front. He could hear the laugh in Trowa's voice when he murmured, "Now you're it."

Quatre turned, wriggled out of Trowa's grip and straddled his thighs, and began tickling his ribs. Trowa thrashed and squirmed underneath him, laughing uncontrollably - "Shit! Stop, Quatre - no! Who told you I was - damn it! No fair tickling - ah!" - while Quatre grinned mercilessly.

"Who's it now, hm?" Quatre chortled. "Who's it now?"

"Okay, okay - I am!" Trowa finally caught Quatre's tickling hands, holding them fast. "I am." He sat up a bit, braced on his elbows, smiling, breathing gasps through his laughter.

Quatre started to pull his hands away, but Trowa tightened his hold. Just as he was about to ask to be let go of, Trowa sat up fully, releasing one hand and supporting himself on one arm, bringing them almost nose-to-nose. Quatre forgot to take a breath as Trowa leaned in closer still, and then their lips were touching and breathing seemed altogether unnecessary. Quatre gasped at the touch of Trowa's tongue, just the tip, brushing across his lips, kitten-licking at his mouth. Sweet-tasting and tender-hot - Quatre's heart raced like a junkie's on a high, and he almost laughed at the realization that finally - finally! - the dance had acquired a new step.

When they drew apart, Trowa whispered into Quatre's mouth, "Now you're it again."

"Why?" Quatre asked in a dazed murmur.

"Because I touched you. Doesn't kissing count as touching?"

"No, I meant, why did you kiss me?"

"Oh...because I wanted to. I've wanted to for a long time now."

Quatre swallowed. "How long?"

"Since Corsica."

"Corsica?" Quatre sat back, just a little, eyes scanning Trowa's face. "I thought you still...your memories weren't..."

"I remember Corsica." Trowa brought a hand up to Quatre's face, drew his knuckles along Quatre's cheek. "Even when I wasn't sure what it meant...Corsica, I never forgot."

Quatre shook his head slightly, disbelief warring with hope and a couple of his baser instincts. "Why didn't you say anything before now?"

Trowa's answering smile was soft and surprisingly unguarded. "Before, I didn't know what to say or how to say it. And now...well, now, there's no more time for uncertainty. They almost got us today, Quatre. It could have been all over today. Who knows if there will even be a tomorrow? There's no more time to wonder if what I want is possible. I want you, Quatre - I want - mmph!"

Trowa never did get to finish his sentence. Quatre grabbed Trowa's face, hands quick and bold, and kissed him back. Hard and demanding, with nipping teeth and wandering tongues, they kissed. Quatre's hands slid into Trowa's hair, Trowa's down Quatre's back, drawing him closer and closer still, until their groins met.

"Want you, too," Quatre murmured, between hasty breaths and more kisses. He rocked his hips and devoured Trowa's moans. "Want you now...sick of waiting...sick of controlling myself..." He tugged on Trowa's bangs until Trowa lifted his chin, and rewarded him with lips along his neck and jaw.

Trowa shivered as he worked the buttons on Quatre's shirt, pushing it down over his shoulders. "Don't, then - no control, hold nothing back." He let one hand slip into Quatre's open shirt, going around his waist, while the other moved behind him, bracing them. The metal beneath them was cool and textured with use, but still he felt his balance slipping, precarious - his balance and his control in equal measure. "Quatre, wait - we should - oh my God that feels good - we should - get up a - ahhh...a minute - turn around so we don't slide - oh, fuck..."

Quatre's teeth marked Trowa's neck, nipping sharp and tender and moving - he tugged again on Trowa's hair, pulling his head to the side, making a trail with his mouth from neck to ear. With Trowa's earlobe between his teeth, Quatre murmured, "Did you say you wanted to stop?"

"Fuck no," Trowa breathed, his response too quick for reason. "But we should - Christ, you're good at that..." Quatre's tongue was bathing his ear, and as much as it pained him to do so Trowa had no choice but to grab Quatre's chin in one hand and forcibly turn him away from his task. They stared at each other, breathing heavy and wide-eyed for a moment, before Trowa spoke. "We should at least turn around so we don't slide off and smash our skulls into the floor."

Quatre couldn't help but grin. "That would be an awful way for this to wind up, wouldn't it?" He lifted his body off of Trowa, on all fours beside him. Trowa turned quickly, spinning on his backside, planting his feet on the flat ridge of red-painted metal that marked the base of the Gundam's foot. He started to lie back again, against the cool neutral slope of the top of the foot, but Quatre reached behind him and began to tug at the hem of his shirt.

"Off," Quatre growled. He crouched down as he pushed the fabric up, tasting the skin on Trowa's back. Trowa moaned and arched, lifted his arms while Quatre pulled the shirt over his head. Quatre tossed it aside and Trowa grabbed him for a kiss, mashing lips together with his hands in Quatre's hair, lying flat on his back and pulling Quatre down with him.

Lips on Trowa's, Quatre shifted to straddle his hips, eased down, let his skin brush against Trowa's. Trowa groaned into his mouth and Quatre swallowed it, brought it with him down Trowa's neck and collarbone. His hands wormed between them to tug at the buttons of Trowa's jeans. "Do you have anything?" he murmured into Trowa's shoulder.

"...Anything?" Trowa's voice was fuzzy, lust-hazy.

"Yeah," Quatre replied. His thumb slipped into the open waist of Trowa's jeans and teased the tip of his cock. Trowa gasped and bucked beneath him, his eyes squeezed shut. "You know...for this."

"I..." After a couple of tries, Trowa caught his breath. "Never done this before. I don't...know...oh! Do that again!"

Quatre's hand slid down more, that much further, and he gave Trowa's cock a squeeze. "You've never done this before?" He sat up a bit, Trowa's erection still in his fist. "Really?"

Trowa opened his eyes, his breathing slowing. "Yeah, really. Have you?"

"Yeah," Quatre nodded. "Not even with a girl?"

Trowa shook his head, his expression turning apprehensive. "No, just by myself. Is this going to be a problem?"

"Problem?" Quatre repeated incredulously. His eyebrows quirked up and he chuckled softly. He gave Trowa's cock a long, slow, stroke. "Let's see...is it going to be a problem for me to make you completely and utterly mine and no one else's - is that what you're asking me?" He squeeze-stroked again, and Trowa's eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open and his hips jerking up into the touch. Quatre's smile turned feral, and he leaned down to whisper into Trowa's ear. "Nope - no problem at all." He set his mouth against Trowa's neck, kissing and sucking and biting. When he pulled back Trowa was writhing beneath him, tiny animal noises escaping his teeth-bruised throat. His hands were at the fly of Quatre's trousers, tugging almost desperately on the belt.

Quatre sat up, leaned back a little to give Trowa's hands room, watching Trowa's face. Trowa's eyes were flicking from his groin to his face and back again, fast as a hummingbird's wings, fast as his breaths. Quatre's breaths sped up to match Trowa's, and as his pants were opened and pushed down his hips he shifted up onto his knees. Wide-eyed, Trowa licked his lips, focused on Quatre's erection. He touched it with tentative fingers and all of Quatre's breath escaped, and when Trowa's hand surrounded him Quatre's whole body shivered. He fell forward, crouching over Trowa on all fours, thrusting into his fist with his pants pushed down to his thighs.

"Wait..." Quatre finally murmured. "I have to...oooh...Trowa, wait - here." He moved off of Trowa's lap and Trowa sat up, his touch trying to follow. With a grin Quatre rolled onto his back and wriggled his fingertips into his pocket. He pulled a thin tube out, handed it to Trowa with a "Here, hold this," and tugged his pants off the rest of the way.

"What's this for?" Trowa asked, his voice still a bit breathless.

"You'll see." Quatre laughed suddenly - a sound of pure joy. He straddled Trowa's body again, scooting up to perch on his abdomen. "I'll be the one to show you." He took the tube from Trowa and turned his hand palm up. A quick kiss pressed there, to Trowa's palm, and then Quatre was pouring the lubricant over Trowa's fingers. "Now, you just..." He drew Trowa's hand around, behind him, led Trowa's fingers with his own. "...just put these right..." His own thumb held Trowa's fingertip to his anus, and slowly, Quatre pressed. "...there...oh, yes..."

Trowa gasped aloud as his finger entered Quatre's body. His hips were thrusting, driven by instinct. "It doesn't hurt?"

"Mmm...no..." Quatre was rocking on Trowa's finger, eyes closing, bliss on his face. "Put another one in - it feels good."

Trowa did as he was told, his eyes rapt on Quatre's face, Quatre's smile, widening as they moved. He moved his fingers inside Quatre, twisting experimentally, spreading as far as they could go. "What does it feel like?"

Quatre opened his eyes and gave Trowa a feral, almost greedy grin. "Next time we do this, you'll find out."

"Next time..." Trowa murmured, smiling back. "Looking forward to it..."

Quatre chuckled. "Have to get this time done first." He shifted back, groaning low in his throat as Trowa's fingers slipped in deeper, and spilled some of the lube onto Trowa's erection. Trowa gasped again - Quatre was becoming addicted to that noise - and as Quatre started stroking Trowa began to beg, wordless sounds of need and want. Quatre moved again, up on his knees, and reached back to pull Trowa's fingers out. He pushed Trowa's hand down to his cock - "Here, hold it steady" - and shifted, down, impaling himself with slow, sure precision.

"Can't..." Trowa's eyes were squeezed tight. His lips were parted and his whole body as taut as a tightrope, trembling fine tremors along his stomach and thighs. His hands fell to his sides, fisted against the metal of Heavyarms' foot. Quatre engulfed him, took him inside and possessed him - Trowa's teeth gritted together as he fought for control. One fist pounded against the Gundanium and then he was inside Quatre completely, Quatre stilling over him while he caught his breath. He enclosed Trowa's fist with his hand and squeezed it tight.

"Stop," he said, bringing Trowa's hand up, away from the metal and towards himself. His other hand brushed fingertips over Trowa's lips. "Ssshh. You keep making all that noise and we'll have half the crew running in here to see what's wrong."

"Too much..." Trowa whispered through clenched teeth. "Can't - too good - can't control..."

"Hold onto me," Quatre pulled Trowa's hands up to his thighs, his waist. He moved up, rocking, back down. "I'm right here."

They moved together, echoed each other in body and voice. One of Trowa's hands slipped to Quatre's cock and Quatre's back arched. Trowa shifted up onto one elbow, watching Quatre's face, eyes pleading. Desperately, Quatre pressed his lips to Trowa's, his fingers threading into Trowa's hair, and when he came his cries were muffled by Trowa's tongue. Trowa shivered beneath him and Quatre's grip on his hair tightened, his hips grinding harder, pulling Trowa's orgasm from him.

They kissed through the aftermath, Trowa falling back to lie flat, Quatre's body flush against his. When the kiss finally ended they parted slowly, nibbling at each other, until Quatre pulled back enough to brace his elbow on the metal and rest his chin in his hand. Fingercombing Trowa's hair, he smiled.

"That was incredible," Trowa said, still a bit breathless.

Quatre hummed in agreement, still smiling, smiling with his eyes. "Best game of tag I've ever played."

Trowa laughed, his arms tightening around Quatre's waist and back. "So does this mean I'm it again?"

"No, I'm it now. And when I catch you..." Quatre tugged on Trowa's hair and gave him a suggestive grin, wagging his eyebrows.

Trowa smirked and then feigned helplessness. "Oh, no - I'm caught already. Whatever shall I do?"

Quatre chuckled. "Let's go back to my room and find out."

*~end~*  



End file.
